The Hot Zone (A Rainshadow Novel Book 3) Read online

  “Knox’s Resort and Tavern is not a cheap, run-down resort,” she said. “It is a quaint bed-and-breakfast with tons of atmosphere and excellent cuisine.”

  Cyrus looked amused. “Haven’t tasted the food yet, but I can vouch for the atmosphere.”

  Brock threw him an annoyed look and then switched back to Sedona. “Honey, we need to talk.”

  “Do. Not. Call. Me. Honey.”

  “I have some explaining to do,” Brock continued as if he had not heard the warning note in her voice. “I understand that. But there’s a lot you don’t know.”

  “And a lot that I am no longer interested in knowing,” she said. “You’ll have to excuse us now. We’re going to eat breakfast. Cyrus and I have to work today.”

  She caught hold of the door and closed it very deliberately. Brock stepped back automatically to avoid getting slammed in the face.

  Sedona quickly locked the door and transferred her bright smile to Cyrus.

  “Is that freshly brewed coffee I smell?” she asked.

  “I believe it is.”

  “We’d better get some before Lyle figures out how to pour a cup for himself.”

  She heard Brock’s footsteps on the porch. He must have concluded he wasn’t going to get over the threshold. She peeked out the window and saw him go down the steps and walk down the tree-studded drive to the road that led to Main Street.

  She was suddenly feeling remarkably invigorated. It had felt very good to shut the door in Brock’s face. She crossed the room to the kitchenette and went behind the counter.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I mean it. I know that you are not involved in this and I know it was a fluke that you happened to be here this morning, but thanks. That little scene couldn’t have gone better if I had planned it.”

  Cyrus watched her pick up the glass carafe.

  “Aren’t you curious to know why Prescott followed you all the way to Rainshadow?” he asked.

  She gave that some thought as she poured two mugs of coffee. “Well, yes, now that I think about it, I guess I am curious.” She put the pot back on the hot plate. “You were the one who started interrogating him. You’re wondering if he set the trap here last night, aren’t you?”

  “Finding him on the doorstep first thing this morning does seem a bit of a coincidence.”

  She handed him one of the mugs and then lounged against the counter to drink her own coffee.

  “The thing is, although Brock does have some talent, it’s not the kind required to work Alien psi. What he’s good at is charming people. I believe that he’s got some true charisma talent.”

  “The experts claim there is no such thing.”

  “Oh, sure, and the experts are always right, right? People didn’t invent the word charisma for nothing. We all know folks who have it—the best actors, the most successful politicians, cult leaders, the local neighborhood sociopath.”

  “I’m not arguing with you,” Cyrus said. “Probably some as-yet-unidentified form of hypnosis talent.”

  “Maybe.” She drank some of her coffee. “The thing is, it doesn’t always work—not once you know the truth. It sure won’t work on me again. Not ever.”

  “Did it work on you previously?”

  She gave that some thought. “Maybe. For a while. No woman likes to feel that she was deceived by a man. In my own defense, I can say that even though I was under the impression that Brock and I had a pretty good relationship, I always knew there was never going to be anything permanent between us. Certainly not a Covenant Marriage. When I showed up on his doorstep the night I escaped from Blankenship’s lab, I wasn’t all that surprised when his new lover opened the door.”

  “Still, that had to hurt.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She smiled. “But this morning really took care of that particular pain. Nothing like a little well-timed revenge. I suppose if I were a better person, I would be above that sort of thing but evidently I’m not. So, thanks, again.”

  Cyrus lowered himself onto one of the bar stools. “Glad I could be of service.”

  She opened the refrigerator door. “You definitely earned breakfast.”

  He watched her crack four eggs and whisk them in a bowl. “You’re sure that Prescott could not have set the trap last night.”

  “As certain as I can be.” She added a splash of cream and some fresh herbs to the eggs. Then she set a skillet on the stove, put in a pat of butter, and rezzed the heat. “But I suppose anything’s possible. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have a clue what’s going on here.”

  She busied herself with the toast and juice, taking secret pleasure in the homey little scene. She hadn’t had breakfast with anyone, male or female, since she had been kidnapped. People always said that nights were the hardest for singles but she had always found that breakfast and dinner could be the loneliest times of the day.

  Holidays were the worst, of course. Luckily, they only came around a few times a year. She had learned to spend those days alone because, although friends usually invited her for a traditional feast, she always felt odd surrounded by the members of someone else’s family.

  Halloween was the exception. It was a holiday for people like her, she thought, people who had learned to wear masks to conceal their real identities. It was the only holiday she bothered to celebrate with decorations and goodies.

  “By the way, you had a phone call last night,” Cyrus said.

  She had just plunked her plate down on the counter beside his. She came out of the kitchen and glanced uneasily at her phone.

  “I did?”

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t answer it,” Cyrus said. He picked up his fork. “But I think the caller left a message.”

  She picked up the phone and glanced at the screen. A cold sensation drifted through her. She did not recognize the number but she knew the area code. She set the phone down with great care and went to sit on the stool next to Cyrus.

  “Something very weird is going on in my life,” she said. “The Snows’ law firm has been hounding me for a couple of weeks. Now, out of the blue, it looks like someone from my mother’s family is trying to get hold of me.”

  “You’re not close to either side, I take it?”

  “Nope.” She forked up a bite of eggs. “I’m an embarrassment to both the Callahans and the Snows.”

  “Aren’t you even a little curious to find out why they’re trying to get in touch with you?”

  “It makes me nervous. They must want something from me. The question is, what?”

  Cyrus ate some toast. “Ever considered the possibility that they might want to reestablish family bonds?”

  “Not for more than three seconds.” She took a sip of coffee. “And even if I do allow for that unlikely possibility, it seems way too much of a coincidence that both clans would suddenly decide to rebuild family ties simultaneously.”

  Cyrus pondered that briefly. “Good point.” He looked thoughtful. “Both the Snows and the Callahans started looking for you this past month?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “After you emerged from the Underworld?”

  “Uh-huh.” She ate some more toast.

  “And now your ex is on the island, wanting to have a cozy chat. You know, you’re right, that is an interesting coincidence.”

  “Suddenly I seem to be very popular. Like I said, it makes me nervous.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Cyrus finished the last of his coffee and got to his feet. “There’s one way to get some answers.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Take some of those phone calls?”

  “That would be the most efficient approach.” Cyrus glanced at the amber face of his watch. “I’ve got to get moving. I need to go back to my cottage to shower and shave before I meet with Harry Sebastian, the head of the Foundation’s security division and the police chief, Slade Attri
dge. You should be safe enough during the day. There are lots of people around. But try to stay in plain sight. Don’t go wandering off.”

  “I won’t. I’ll be at the front desk most of the day. Thanks again for hanging around last night.”

  He watched her with a steady gaze. “About last night—”

  She winced and held up one hand, palm out. “Sorry about jumping you the way I did. All I can say is that I was in a serious after-burn and you know what that’s like.”

  He wrapped one hand around the doorknob. “In other words, any man who happened to be handy would have worked for you last night?”

  “No.” She choked and sputtered on a mouthful of coffee, aware that she was turning a dreadful shade of red. She waved one hand wildly in a negative way. “No, I didn’t mean that at all.”

  “But you will concede that I was useful, both last night and this morning?”

  She was mortified. “For pete’s sake, stop twisting my words. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t trying to use you.” She groaned. “Okay, maybe this morning I did use you. A little. I apologize.”

  “No need to apologize.” He let go of the doorknob and walked back across the room. He halted in front of her. “I get the picture.”

  She stared at him. “Cyrus—”

  “I just want to make sure we both understand what’s going on here.”

  Before she could come up with a response to that, he bent his head and kissed her. It was a quick, efficient, proprietary kiss, the kind of kiss that promised more to come at some point in the future. She was too frozen with confusion to even begin to figure out how to react.

  Before she could pull herself together he was walking back across the front room and letting himself out the door.

  And then he was gone.

  She looked at Lyle.

  “Damn it, I did not use him last night,” she said. “That is a total misreading of the situation. It was just one of those things.”

  Lyle chortled and deftly hopped from the kitchen counter to the windowsill. He set about rearranging his collection.

  She slid off the stool and picked up the dishes. “That’s one of the things I admire about you, Lyle. You’ve got your priorities straight. I think you’re onto something. It’s risky to trust people. But like the ghost hunters say, good rocks will never let you down.”

  Chapter 12

  “Your ex is on the island?” Rachel’s eyes widened. “Oh, my. That’s bound to make your life a lot more interesting.”

  “Tell me about it.” Sedona collapsed back into the chair and gazed morosely at her friend.

  They were sitting at a table in the tea shop at the back of Rachel’s bookstore. Rachel was engaged to Harry Sebastian, a member of the powerful Sebastian clan. Harry’s family had been guarding the secrets of the Preserve for generations. Lately those secrets had been surfacing in a number of unsettling ways. To deal with them Harry had taken charge of Foundation Security on the island.

  “The thing is, why is Brock here on Rainshadow?” Sedona said.

  Rachel twitched a lock of red hair behind her ear and studied Sedona with her aura-reader’s eyes; eyes that saw beneath the surface. “Obviously he’s here because of you.”

  “That’s what’s got me worried. He’s the one who dumped me, remember? I told you, the SOB cancelled our MC the minute he found out I hadn’t returned from my last job.”

  Rachel shuddered. “That was cold.”

  “Well, in fairness to him, it’s not like our MC was ever going to turn into a Covenant Marriage.”

  “Still.”

  “Still. It’s the principle of the thing. He could have had the decency to wait a couple of weeks. Maybe even a whole month.”

  “So a few weeks ago he was in a rush to end the MC and now he’s come looking for you.” Rachel drummed her fingers on the table and smiled. “He must have received a rather nasty shock when Cyrus opened your door this morning.”

  Sedona winced. “It’s all over town, isn’t it?”

  “The news that Cyrus was seen leaving your cottage at a very early hour today?” Rachel smiled a commiserating smile. “I’m afraid so. Small towns, you know. That old graveyard is a bit out of the way but it’s not exactly remote.”

  “I don’t suppose it helps to say that the situation was not exactly as it appeared?”

  “In my experience those sorts of situations are never exactly as they appear—not in small towns.”

  “Doesn’t stop the gossip, though, does it?” Sedona said, resigned.

  “No. If anything it makes the gossip more interesting.” Rachel sat back in her chair. “So what was the situation at your cottage this morning?”

  “Complicated.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Okay, here’s the short version,” Sedona said. “Someone set a psi-trap for me last night, right in the middle of my own cottage. I managed to get outside. Lyle sensed I was in trouble and went for help. He must have concluded that Cyrus Jones was the closest person at hand.”

  Shock replaced the amusement in Rachel’s eyes. “Good grief. You’re serious.”

  “Sadly, yes.”

  “Wait a minute.” Rachel’s red-gold brows scrunched. “A psi-trap exploded in your cottage and you got out safely?”

  “Thanks to my talent,” Sedona said, skating over that part of the story as quickly as possible. “But here’s the thing, Rachel—whoever set the trap came back to see if it had worked. I heard the footsteps. The intruder didn’t stick around. He was long gone by the time Cyrus arrived.”

  Rachel squinted a little. “And the following morning your ex shows up at your front door.”

  “It did occur to both Cyrus and me that those two factoids could be strung together. However, in all honesty, I just can’t see any connection.”

  Rachel reached across the table with one hand and touched Sedona’s arm. “Don’t worry, we won’t let anyone smuggle you off Rainshadow and take you back to that clinic. You’re safe here.”

  Sedona closed her eyes for a moment and then looked straight at Rachel. “Thanks for the reassurance. It means a lot, believe me.”

  It was so good to have friends who cared, she thought, but not so good to lie to them. She hated not telling them the whole truth about her talent but they already knew she had been psi-burned. She did not want them thinking that she might be an unstable multi-talent on top of everything else. You have a right to your secrets, she reminded herself. She was very sure that Rachel and her fiancé, Harry, had a few of their own.

  “Where does Cyrus Jones stand in this?” Rachel asked. “After all, he’s a Guild boss.”

  Sedona shook her head. “He didn’t set that trap. Lyle would never have gone to him for help if that had been the case.”

  “Okay, point taken. And while it’s true Cyrus is Guild, he’s also Arcane. Not only that, he’s a Jones.”

  Sedona frowned. “That matters?”

  “It matters within Arcane. The Jones family is the Arcane Society in some ways. One of their ancestors, an old alchemist named Sylvester Jones, founded it back in the 1600s, Old World time. It was a secret society of psychics before the First Generation colonists even arrived on Harmony and discovered that there is such a thing as a latent paranormal sensitivity in humans.”

  “Not so latent, not here on Harmony,” Sedona said.

  “True. But that’s my point. The Arcane Society families were strong talents before they even got here. And within the Society, the Joneses have always been rumored to be the most powerful. They pretty much control the Society, or at least what’s left of it. It’s true, Arcane isn’t what it used to be back on Earth, but believe me when I tell you that the Joneses can protect you.”

  “Why should they?”

  Rachel smiled knowingly. “Gee, I dunno. Maybe because Cyrus Jones spent the night at your pl
ace?”

  “I told you, nothing happened. I was sleeping off a bad burn.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ve got friends here on Rainshadow.”

  Sedona drank some tea while she thought about that.

  “Rachel, are you still sure that my aura is stable?”

  “Positive.”

  Sedona’s phone rang. She glanced down, saw the same city-state code and number as the voicemail she had dumped that morning. She reflected on Cyrus’s advice. There was only one way to find out why people from both sides of her family were pursuing her.

  Against her better judgment, she took the call.

  And regretted it immediately.

  “Sedona?” The older woman’s voice had a brittle edge that made it clear that she had not wanted to place the call. “Is that you? This is Margaret Callahan—your aunt.”

  The subtle stress on the word aunt was interesting, Sedona thought. The Callahans had always taken great care to downplay any familial relationship.

  “I know who you are, Margaret.”

  “I left a message for you last night. The least you could have done was show me the courtesy of responding.”

  “What’s going on?” Sedona asked. “Did someone die?”

  There was a startled silence on the other end of the connection.

  “No, of course not,” Margaret said. “Why would I call you about a death in the family? Never mind.”

  “I’m a little busy at the moment,” Sedona said. “If you have something to say, please say it fast.”

  “There’s no need to be rude,” Margaret said. “Not after all this family has done for you. I’m calling because the Snow family’s lawyers have been trying to get in touch. I’m told that you have not returned their calls.”

  “Nope. I’m only taking this call because a friend of mine insisted.”

  “I’ll come straight to the point. The reason the Snow lawyers have been attempting to get in touch is because your grandfather wishes you to attend the annual reception that is going to be held in honor of his birthday later this week.”

  “Good grief.” Sedona nearly dropped the phone. “You’re kidding. That’s what all the phone calls have been about? A birthday invitation?”